


Twins of Volsung

by incensuous



Category: Der Ring des Nibelungen | The Ring of the Nibelung - Wagner, Norse Mythology - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Incest, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Twincest, Twins, and make it more incest, canon twincest, i literally choose to write for the most obscure things i can think of, im not a pro in norse myth/lore but i tried to do some research, im sorry if this is offensive but im taking huge creative liberties, it's what im here for, obscure incest myth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 07:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20131312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incensuous/pseuds/incensuous
Summary: Working title. A loose retelling of the Volsung saga, centered around the twins Sigmund and Signy.Bergljot, the family healer who had served them for generations, told Volsung assuredly, his youngest progeny would be destined for greatness. And lo, Signy and Sigmund entered the world, seconds apart, and were inseparable from their first breaths.





	Twins of Volsung

**Author's Note:**

> Will be trying to tackle this in chunks and parts. Will be slow because I can't write.

**i. childhood**

When the twins were born to Volsung and his wife, they were the last of the offspring. Bergljot, the family healer who had served them for generations, told Volsung assuredly, his youngest progeny would be destined for greatness. And lo, Signy and Sigmund entered the world, seconds apart, and were inseparable from their first breaths.

Newborns crying was no strange thing, yet the two were inconsolable even as they were bundled in thick blankets and cradled against their mother. “Perhaps they miss each other,” she mused, placing them in the same bed. She swaddled them together and the two babes clung to each other as she imagined they had in her womb. 

* * *

The king and queen had long wanted a daughter and they finally bore one in Signy. There was no question of her Viking ancestry, not when her eyes were every bit as fierce and piercing as her ten brothers. 

As children, Signy and Sigmund were nearly indistinguishable from each other, dressed in the nondescript tan shifts and slacks of childhood. They chased after the other through the Hall of Branstock for years, long plaited hair whipping around them like tails. 

Their faces shared features to a degree that set them apart from their nine brothers, with almond gray eyes, high sharp cheekbones, and mirroring freckles dusting their noses. They even mapped out the moles on their bodies, to find they shared birthmarks on the nape of their necks. 

It was no secret they were each others’ twin before they were siblings to the rest of the Volsung children. Einar, the oldest, would tease, “If the castle were burning to the ground and Signy only had time to save one, she’d step on all our faces to reach Sigmund first.” 

Signy hated hearing it, always insisting it wouldn’t be true, and in any case, it was unlikely for their castle to go up in flames. 

For all her words, it was clear coming into the world together had given the two a sacred, mystical bond. 

Once, Signy had been napping in their bedroom, and startled awake immediately. In her sleep, she had had a vision—fleeting, but she recognized the woods belonging to the castle, trees uniquely gnarled and looming. Most importantly, she recognized the cry that rang in her ears; it was her brother’s. 

She went to Einar, interrupting his spar and declaring Sigmund was injured, possibly dying somewhere in the forest. 

“Sister, how do you know?”

“I felt it,” she said simply. “I saw it too.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream?” he put a warm hand on the crown of her head.

She frowned up at him, insisting, “No, I know it was Sigmund. He’s in danger, we must find him.”

Einar knew Signy would not rest unless she confirmed her twin was safe and obliged his sister by accompanying her to the forest. 

His tutors gaped at him for going on a mid-day excursion to the woods, accusing him of indolence. With great pains, Einar managed to escape and took Signy’s hand to lead her. 

The Volsungs were no strangers to their forest; they had all grown up becoming familiar with each trail and flora. But any Volsung also knew, the forest was vast, and for as long as they lived, they would never know all its secrets, and consequently, should never feel too comfortable among its boughs. 

The canopy of the forest was so thick, it was perpetually dim with the weak northern sun barely able to scatter light through the branches. 

The oldest found himself being led by Signy. His sister pulled on his hand insistently, often pausing and looking around as if reorienting herself and honing her senses. 

It took a long while, and Einar, while patient, had half a mind to insist they were not likely to find Sigmund if he did not want to be found within the forest. 

Signy gave a final yank before letting go and bounding towards a rocky area. She peered over the edge and gasped. “Sigmund!” she cried. 

Einar jolted in surprise. She really_ had_ found her twin. By the time he had cleared the same distance and looked down, Signy had already scrambled down the steep rock face, heedlessly scraping herself in her haste.

Small hands cupped Sigmund’s cold, pale face, and mirroring features scanned over his form. Signy whispered his name again, with cold fear gripping her chest that she’d been too late. But her desperate fingers pressed against his neck and found the telltale beating of his blood. She let out a shaky breath and leaned her forehead against his. 

Between the two of them, Signy and Einar eventually maneuvered their brother back home. 

Sigmund was found to have broken a few ribs, an arm, and fractured his ankle.

He did not wake up until a few hours after Signy discovered him, and he was greeted with a dark room, moonlight filtering in through a small window.

He immediately recognized Signy’s form, hunched over his bed, arms and head resting on his blankets.

“Signy,” he croaked, voice weak and dry.

Signy hit him then, “for making me worry,” she explained.

He grinned and nodded, accepting his punishment. He gingerly shifted over in his bed, peeling back the thick furs. Without question, Signy slid in beside him, curling herself into his side, mindful of his injuries. 

Bergljot found them like that the next morning. She smiled to herself, rolling her eyes. “They never change.”


End file.
